Ms X
by Blade Redwind
Summary: He wasn't opposed to being happy. If only half the women he'd been set up with were acceptable. How was it a certain brunette's half-cocked scheme worked in his favor? If only she didn't do it so *well*.
1. Part I

.

_**Ms. X**_

_For Nokito-chan who has been asking for me to write a NejiTen fic for a while now. Thanks for all your support and help on my other work, hun!_

Part I

She was laughing at him.

You could always tell when she did, even if it wasn't obvious. Her eyes gave her away first. Those chocolate browns carried slices of amber in them, but, only if you looked close enough; they became brilliantly apparent when she was doing it—laughing at you, that is. Eventually, if she couldn't manage to keep it contained, the corner of her lips curled; white would start to peek from betwixt cherry painted lips; her entire face would light up.

She rarely repressed it; the brown-haired weapon's specialist was the sort of girl that laughed out loud. Smiling came easy to her.

There were a number of times in his life he could recall when she wanted to laugh but couldn't; her eyes always did it; every time during mission briefings, meeting with clients who hired them, and occasionally during Hyuuga formal events he'd invited her to.

She laughed with her eyes first.

He was rarely ever on the brunt of that smile, that explosive grin, that effulgent burst of sound. It wasn't often her sneaky, snarky expression was at his expense.

It was tonight.

Hyuuga Neji sighed as he leaned over his drink; that was when the first chuckle came. "I fail to see what's so humorous about my situation…"

She barely suppressed a sound that could only be described as a 'snark'. "I'm sorry."

She wasn't. "I shouldn't have said anything," he heard himself reply. He placed the edge of his glass to his lips and drank.

Her grin went on for miles as she sat on the bar stool, facing him with her elbow on the wood counter; her cheek was in her palm, resting as she looked at him. "Who sets them up for you anyway?"

"Hinata." He set the glass back on the bar.

"Pouting almost suits you, Hyuuga."

He glared at her; he tried. It did little good to glare at her these days. Being on the same team for well over ten years had apparently worn the badass out of his image when it came to Tenten.

She just grinned at him still, more so if that were possible. "What was wrong with this one? Bad breath? Too quiet? Too slutty?"

He turned his gaze to the back shelf of the bar in front of him. "…She spoke about herself in the third person."

Then it started again. He could see it out of the corner of his eye. Hers danced as she set her jaw and pulled her lips together so tightly they almost weren't visible. Covering it with a cough would have been her next course of action and he just didn't see the point in watching her _try_.

He shut his eyes as he spoke. "…It won't be out of your system until you do, so go ahead."

She did. She laughed until he could see the pain in her eyes, until she wiped moisture from the corners of them as she clutched her side. If it weren't so loud in the bar already he knew people would have been staring at her.

"Really? Third person?"

"Yep."

She wiped her eyes again and took the shot glass off the bar, downing it. She smacked her lips and shook her head as she tried to ease the burn. The smile was ever present, this time more curious and mischievous. "Why does Hinata keep setting you up with these bogus girls?"

"Because she uses her _vast_ diplomatic network to find them." He took another drink from his glass, this time taking half of it. "She doesn't actually know any of them personally."

"She means well."

"If the process weren't driving me half insane I'd agree with you. Instead, I find I'm spending the majority of my night with them trying to find an easy way to tell them I'm not interested."

Her brows rose. "It's not like you to be a total nice guy to a stranger if you're not happy with the situation. Why not just be an ass and leave the date?"

Because Hinata had asked him to play nice? "I'm _trying_ to be nice."

She motioned for the bar tender and ordered a glass of scotch. "I still can't figure out why you ever agreed to get married anyway. It's not like you have to, right?"

Why, indeed? "I don't have to, no. But, Hinata's determined to see me happy and I'm not totally against it. I thought doing it this way would be easier."

Tenten chuckled, cocking her head at him as she spoke, "In other words, Hyuuga, you _thought_ you'd just meet a couple of girls, fall in love with the right one and live happily ever after?"

As he held his glass he stared at the bottom of it; he rotated it, watching the liquid roll around. "More that I hoped to find someone acceptable, but, yes." He drank the rest.

She shook her head. "You know, this whole process might be a hell of a lot easier if you actually dated on your own instead letting Hinata send four-times-removed clan relations, Hyuuga and otherwise, in your immediate direction.

"And, you might be happier because of it." She blinked. "Actually, why _don't_ you?"

Because he didn't have time? Because he'd spent so much of his life focused on his career and protecting Hinata that it just never occurred to him?

He stared at his empty glass.

He _knew how_ to hit on a woman; he had; all shinobi knew _how_. He'd just never taken the personal time out to do it for his own happiness, and, when Hinata came to him with her request he hadn't seen the harm in it. People married all the time for reasons outside of love; Hyuugas, other shinobi clansmen, had for over a hundred years. He would be satisfied with friendship from a spouse, if nothing else.

But, he wasn't going to tell _her_ that.

"Because with or without Hinata I meet the same end. _With_ Hinata I cut the hassle of looking myself out entirely."

"Well…you never were much of a romantic," she took her glass as the bartender set it down and drank from it. "Too bad matchmaking centers aren't in business anymore. You could just have them evaluate your needs and find yourself a perfectly quiet and obedient little homemaker." She was teasing him; her grin made that apparent.

He glared at her for the second time that night.

She held her hands up in mock surrender as she laughed. "Fine, fine. Got it. Damn you _are_ grumpy about this, Hyuuga."

"You would be after twenty _agonizing_, uneventful evenings." He tapped his glass and the bartender refilled it for him.

"You know what you need?"

"If you say sex I'm leaving you now—with the bill."

She snorted. "No… but, you could probably use that too," she said the last bit quietly. "_Look_," she started as he moved to get up; she pulled him back down by his arm and continued, "what your problem here is that inside of thirty minutes you've decided whether it's working with the girl or not, right?" She didn't wait to see if he would respond. "You need to do what my uncle Dai did.

"Get yourself a fake ex-girlfriend."

"Huh?" He pulled his gaze away from the drink in his hand and offered her a questionable look.

"It's simple," she explained, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned into the counter of the bar. "But, I'll just tell you how the scenario works. First," she started, tapping the bar with a finger for emphasis, "say you go out with girl Y, the one you're set up with. You arrive at the restaurant. Then ten minutes later, fake ex-girl comes in—we'll call her girl X—and takes a seat not too far away. If you're happy with the date, girl X doesn't do anything, _but_," she continued, smirking, "say the evening's sucking. You want out. You signal girl X with some normal, nonchalant move. Then girl X moves in; she disrupts the date by pulling something stupid, something only a desperate ex who doesn't get a clue pulls. Helpless, you try to explain to girl Y it's not your fault. Naturally, she doesn't listen; she's aggravated; maybe she's even thinking you're two timing and leaves.

"And presto, you're crazy third-cousin-twice-removed free." She snapped her fingers with a grin.

He could do nothing at stare at her. "That's…"

"Brilliant?"

"Ridiculously backwoods."

She shrugged as she drank. "Hey, uncle Dai was a farmer. What do you want?"

"I can't believe I'm actually considering it."

She chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's a great idea on paper, but, you would still have to find a girl to play Ms. X."

He continued to stare at her, eyes narrowed and contemplative.

She blinked. "What…?" When he didn't say anything she narrowed her eyes, gradually realizing his train of thought. "_No._"

"And who else would you suggest?"

She took another sip of her drink and licked her lips. "You _could_ hire someone, you know."

"I'll pay you," he replied easily as he held the rim of his glass in his fingertips, turning it in circles on the counter while he watched her.

Tenten rolled her eyes and swiveled to face the bar in her seat. "I wouldn't take your money."

He smiled in that way was purely Neji.

"I'm _still_ not doing it." She gave him a look this time.

"Then it won't happen." He took another drink.

Her eyes narrowed on him. "Are you _trying_ to make me feel guilty about being your self-proclaimed _only option_?"

"What I'm _telling_ you is that I'm not doing this with someone else."

She grumbled. "You're an ass, you know that? I do hope you know you're paying tonight."

It was his turn to chuckle.

"You owe me."

"Always."

…

**.**

…

"Does it meet your expectations, Hyuuga-sama?"

Tenten leaned over the taller, retired head of the Hyuuga and watched as he examined the long wakizashi. His fingers trailed over the ivory-laden hilt partly wrapped in leather; it slid over reflective steel of the blade, admiring the inscription. After a moment or two he slid it back into the scabbard with a decisive snap.

"Admirable, Tenten-san. You are your father's daughter; his technique was not lost on you."

"Thank you, Hyuuga-sama." She smiled and stepped out from over his shoulder and more to his right as he turned his seat to face her.

"I'll have the payment sent over tomorrow."

Tenten nodded.

"I must admit, when your father passed away last year I was worried your mother would retire the forge."

Tenten raised her brows at Hiashi.

He smiled faintly, but, not sadly. "You are a shinobi first, Tenten-san. I more than anyone else understand the demand Konoha places on its ninja."

"Ah," she replied, understanding. She scratched the back of her head, grinning. "I'm not that busy. I just work between missions, Hyuuga-sama. But, my mother and I appreciate you continuing on with us."

"I doubt you're ever out of work."

"Never." She laughed. "There's always a need for more kunai."

He chuckled.

"Anyway, Hyuuga-sama, I hope Hinata enjoys the effort I put into putting it back into its prime when she receives it during the induction ceremony."

"Ah yes, well, of that I have no doubt. Her mother would be proud of her."

"It was her weapon of choice, wasn't it?" she inquired, depths glancing at it momentarily.

Hiashi nodded. "Yes… it was." He leaned forward and set it down. "She—."

There came a knock.

"Enter," Hiashi called out.

The door slid open and Neji stepped in.

"Yes, nephew?"

Neji gave Hiashi and bow that was much similar to Tenten's earlier one. "Actually, uncle, I'm here for Tenten."

"Oh?" He glanced over at the girl and then back to Neji. "Mission?"

Tenten smiled. _Mission planning_, she mused.

"No. It's not very important if you're busy with her. I—."

"We're done, actually," Tenten interrupted him and looked down at Hiashi. "There isn't anything else is there, Hyuuga-sama?"

"No, but I did want you to mention to your mother about the induction ceremony. Both of you are welcome if Hinata has not already invited you."

The brunette nodded and smiled as she stepped away from the desk. She bowed as she spoke. "I'll tell her. I'm sure she'll be most honored, Hyuuga-sama." Then she and Neji stepped out; she slid the door shut as she was last.

"Were you delivering something?" he asked as they started down the hall back the way Tenten had come. He was glancing over at her.

She nodded as she stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Your aunt's wakizashi. He sent it the forge for restoration. It's for Hinata; a gift during the induction ceremony."

"Ah. Did you have a hard time with it?"

She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing in thought. "Not too much. I think he thought it was worse than it was. I mean… the ivory had some cracks… but I took care of it." She said this as they slipped their shoes on at the door. But the time she was done speaking Neji was opening the door for her and they were stepping out into the autumn wonderland.

They walked side by side across the leaf scattered courtyard that doubled as an outdoor dojo for the clan.

Chocolate orbs glanced up at the branches of a giant oak; she watched as the breeze upset more browning leaves; they danced on the air, spinning wildly. She shivered and rubbed her arms.

"You didn't bring a jacket?"

"It was warmer earlier," she supplied with a sheepish smile.

He rolled his eyes and took off the robe he wore; he slipped it over her shoulders.

"Thanks. I'm not going to be out long anyway. I just came by to drop that off to your uncle and hopefully catch you." She slipped her arms through the sleeves, noting his residual warmth within; she inhaled, appreciating that smell that simply Neji—earthy and clean.

"What are you doing?"

She lifted her head, raising a brow. "Hm?"

"Are you sniffing my robe?"

She frowned, lids lowering a little at him in a way look that said: yeah… why? "What? You smell nice."

"You're unusual." But, he was smiling, faintly.

She gave him grin; her voice was teasing. "Hey now, memories are associated through smell. And you and I have good memories, Hyuuga Neji. So, don't be a stick in the mud and ruin my reverie."

He chose to change the subject, steering the conversation in the direction of why they'd planned this meet-up to begin with; even so, she could see he'd been assumed by her response. "I have a date tonight."

She glanced over at him with raised brows. "Oh, what time?

"Six."

She thought for a moment.

"Does that interfere with plans you've made?"

She shook her head, causing her bangs to shake. "Nope. I don't have any plans. Well," she chuckled, "I do now. Where are you taking her?"

"Michiru's."

"Oh, fancy," she with mock awe.

He shrugged. "Do I need to get you something to wear? They have dress requirements."

She gave him a snarky grin. "What do you take me for? I've been to Michiru's."

The response surprised him a little. He refrained from giving her a look that said as much. Michiru's _wasn't_ cheap place to eat. A normal meal for two would easily cost any one shinobi a month's worth of paychecks. Tenten didn't make that kind of money often, even with the shop her family ran; she would have had to have saved for it, or, someone would have had to have taken her. Considering the atmosphere of the restaurant he was inclined to believe she'd been there on a date. "Oh?"

She laughed softly. "Is that so hard to believe? Me on a date with a good guy at a good place?" She gave a look, smiled barely there. "I'm a woman, you know. A beautiful one, I might add. Just because you and the rest of the team usually only see me half drenched in blood, covering your asses when the heat picks up, or, coated in soot while I'm working myself into a sweat over a fire doesn't mean other men don't see me in any other fashion.

"I do date, Hyuuga. Some of us still _enjoy_ the romantic process that is dating." The barb was obvious, and a little teasing in reference to what he'd said the previous night about it being too much work to do it on his own.

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "Yeah, yeah…" He stuffed his hands into his pockets. How had he never known she dated? Why wouldn't she tell him? The thought was a little disconcerting; he thought he knew everything about her. "I didn't know. You never talk about it."

"Eh… it's more a girl thing to talk about the men you date. Plus," she let out a sigh almost as bad as his previous and closed her eyes in irritation, "if you haven't noticed we have two other very…_ nosey_ teammates; if they ever got word I was on a date I would never hear the end of love this, youth that. If they could manage to sit in on the date, hidden somewhere while it went on, they would… so, yeah." She reopened her eyes and glanced at him. "That's probably why you haven't heard. But, I do. I have for a couple of years now.

"It would be kind of ridiculous if I didn't."

_Tell me about it_, he wanted to say, but, didn't. She teased him enough on a regular basis; there was really no need for her to know he'd never done the same. "I suppose it makes sense; I wouldn't tell Gai or Lee either." _Definitely not._

"So," she began again as they came to a stop in front of the gate around her house. "I'll be ready and there before six. When you go in with her I'll follow ten minutes after and take a seat nearby. Sounds good?"

He nodded and scratched the back of his head. "What signal should I use?"

"Anything will do, but, it can't be something you do a lot or might do without thinking."

He nodded again, placed his hands on his hips and thought. What wouldn't he be likely to do at a meal, but, would also seem natural? It had to be something he would do only consciously… He snapped his fingers.

"Got something?"

"I'll turn my plate clockwise. I never do that; a lot of people do when they want to eat something on the other side of their plate."

She smiled. "Perfect. I'll see you at six-ten. If all goes well for you then you might not need me at all, though."

He chuckled. "I doubt that… but, I'll see you later." He waved as he walked off.

She waved back and turned to go through the gate and then into her home. She'd never done what she was about to do tonight, but, it would definitely be interesting. She couldn't help but chuckle on the way up the stairs to her room to start planning her look.

Yes, definitely interesting.

…

**.**

…

Lanterns hung down the center above the street, illuminating the cobblestone road just big enough for smaller carts and people to walk. Dusk had long settled in; stars were starting to fleck across the canvas of the night.

Twin pools of copper-brown narrowed from across the street and settled on one person. The gray kimono suited him nicely; the white paper cranes stitched into it were set off by the white with silver inlay obi her wore about his waist. She gave a soft smile and waited, pulling her jacket more firmly about her.

…

**.**

…

He held his hands behind his back, relaxing as he waited just to the left of double door entrance to Michiru's. His long strands hung just below the center of his back, tied in traditional clan fashion.

His face was impassive and his eyes searching idly. He glanced over at the clock on a nearby building face. It was a minute to six; would she be late?

The women Hinata set up for him generally fell into two categories: punctual or late. Punctual because time was important to them; their family expected them to give a good first impression, they tended towards being the introverted type with little to nothing else to keep them from being late, or, they were overly obsessed with time. The late ones were a little more complex; some of them just didn't want to bother meeting him and thought leaving a bad impression would shake another suitor, others thought showing up late made them look better or harder to catch, and others still just thought they were beyond manners because of their family's stature.

As he glanced up the clock again he noted she was going to be one of the late ones; not that those two minutes after really constituted as late… but still.

Neji gave a sigh, closing his eyes as he did so.

"Hyuuga Neji-san?"

He opened them and looked over to his right. "Saiko Sora-san, I presume."

She smiled and bowed politely, hands in front of her.

Neji mirrored her actions. When he stood back up he took a moment to appraise her; first and foremost, while he did have a string of bad luck on these little events, his goal was to eventually find someone suitable. And this was just another part of the process.

Her long strands were pulled up into a complex, but, not overly elaborate style. Some of it draped just past her shoulders, lying out across the dull pastel pink of her kimono. The stitched pattern work that fell across the lower hem and across the opposite shoulder was simple, as well as, a shade darker than the material.

She wasn't tall, nor was she short, coming to stand just under his eye level. Her eyes were a bright violet; her cheeks cut and pronounced to give her an aristocratic air. Her make-up was nice and well done, but, in his opinion too much for her.

He turned, offering up his arm to her. "Shall we?"

"Yes, thank you," she said softly, smiling as she took his arm.

They stepped in together as a well-dressed employee held the door open for them. Neji confirmed the reservation at the front desk and shortly thereafter the both of them were led off to their table. Neji held the chair out for her before sitting and taking his offered menu.

They looked them over in silence.

"Drinks?" the waiter asked.

Neji kept his eyes on his menu as he murmured the name of a bottle of wine.

"Very good. And for the lady?" he asked next.

"I'll have the same, thank you."

He nodded and left.

"Are you usually this quiet?" she asked Neji.

He glanced up from his menu, opaque-violet hues meeting hers. "Sometimes. You?" His elbows moved to rest on the table, fingers interlinking.

"Most of the time, I think so, yes." She smiled demurely.

He nodded and went back to reading his menu.

"Your drinks, Hyuuga-sama." The waiter was back. He took the bottle and popped the cork, pouring them both two glasses.

"You may leave the bottle."

The waiter nodded and took their orders for the meal. "I should be back with your meal in twenty minutes, Hyuuga-sama."

Neji nodded and handed over his menu. "Thank you."

He was gone.

"So, you're a shinobi?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes, I have been since I was twelve. Nearly every member of my family is or was. Are you?"

She shook her head. "No, that kind of work is too bloody for me, I'm afraid. However, most of my family is as well; my father is."

Her personal opinion didn't bother him; it was not entirely uncommon for some people in a clan to feel that way.

"Personally, I don't think women should ever see the battlefield."

That got a blink out of him.

She frowned and reached for her drink, taking a sip. "Don't get me wrong; it's not that I don't think women are capable of doing well. I just don't think we're suited for it..." she trailed off, stopping.

He narrowed his eyes one her. "You do realize you live in a shinobi village where the Hokage is female?"

"Just because I live here doesn't mean I have to like the politics." The frown remained as she held her wine glass. "Point is, women shouldn't be out there. It's compromising."

"How?" Now he was curious. His food hadn't arrived yet and it was becoming vastly entertaining to listen to her. Did she realize his cousins were shinobi? Some of his female friends were?

She glanced around and bit her lower lip. Then she turned back to him, leaning forward and speaking softly. "Well, you know about _those_ missions." She gave another frown. "It's just not right… I mean, those poor girls are considered by some to be no better than… well…" She didn't want to say it; he could see that.

"Whores?" he felt no remorse in supplying the word at a normal tone.

She sighed. "I wouldn't have quite used that word… but, yes. That is what people say; that kunoichi are just ….whores with a kunai."

"Your food, Hyuuga-sama."

Neji sat back as his plate and hers were set down before them. "Thank you."

Sora smiled brightly at him. "You must have been very hungry, Hyuuga-san. You sound enthusiastic."

"You have no idea."

…

**.**

…

For a woman who was use to hiding in the shadows for a living, whether literally or hiding in an open crowd, this was something of a cinch. She crossed one leg over the other, inadvertently highlighting her calf. She rested right forearm on the top of the stained bar, half swiveling still in the stool. She brought her right hand, tips of her manicured fingers, to rest on her temple; her thumb pad pressed gently into her jaw line. She blinked softly, long dark lashes kissing her sculpted features.

She was more than aware of the number of looks she was getting. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last.

The red little number, laced through with a series of inconsequential sequins hugged her hips like a second skin; it tied behind her neck and left her shoulders bare. It dropped low on her back and her chest, revealing more cleavage than she ever considered on duty.

The bottoms of her feet arched in the four inch heels strapped about her ankles with leather much the same red as her flowing, short dress. The small, attached, glass gems sparkled in the dim lighting.

She reached up, turning slightly towards her drink on the bar, and brushed her wavy hair out of her eyes. It tumbled down her back with finesse; it was amazing what a curling iron and little patience could do for a girl. She picked up her drink and eyed herself in the reflection of her glass, squinting as she inspected the cosmetics inked there. Her lipstick, a darker shade than her dress, was still just right; all was well. Satisfied, she took a sip of her drink and eyed Neji and the girl out of the corner of her chocolate browns.

She gave a little smirk.

"Ma… she's pretty…" she whispered quietly. Still, a girl like Tenten knew looks weren't everything. Men could be just as bad as women, in her own personal experience. Neji was one of the few exceptions.

She glanced up at the clock face above the shelves along the back wall. So far he'd been at it for about fifteen minutes; well, since they ordered. That was about the same time she'd come in and sat down.

She tapped her chin, watching them now through the reflection of the mirror on the back wall of the bar between the shelves.

There was no telling how long it would take Neji to figure this out. There was always the chance that the girl would be perfectly suitable and he'd not need her at all. But, by his estimate if it wasn't working it almost always happened inside of a half hour from the time he sat down with them.

She _was_ pretty though. When she smiled it was soft and serene. Her hair, her face and her eye color were the picture of want, if Jiraiya's novels were any indication; her curves helped too. Her kimono accented her ivory doll-like skin; the soft pink brought out the blush in her complexion.

She pursed her lips and tapped her chin a few more times.

"Need a refill?"

She shook her head. "Thank you, though." She smiled brightly at the bar tender as he wandered off down the line.

She glanced back up at the clock. It had almost been thirty minutes. Maybe he wouldn't—.

She stilled as Neji's plate was set before him and he turned it.

Clockwise.

She grinned and hopped of her stool, sliding a few bills under her glass. She slid her purse over her shoulder and began to saunter over, red heels clicking under her on the wood floor. She smirked.

Showtime.

…

**.**

…

"The fish is good. Did you try it yet?" he heard her ask.

Neji nodded. "They have the best chef in Fire country; he once worked for the feudal lord."

"Really?" Sora's brows rose.

He could faintly hear her voice; he could see her lips moving out of the corner of his eyes. His attention refocused on a woman in red walking towards them; his eyes traveled up the long curve of her legs as she stepped gracefully in the heels housing delicate feet in a sensual arch; they moved up towards the sway of her hip and the muscular core of her waist; he watched her breasts, bountiful and full as they bounced every so often in the confines of the top that tied about her neck. As he finally made his way up to her face, recognition hitting him—hard—all he could only manage to think was: she'd never shown that much cleavage around him before.

He watched as she took a chair from an empty table and moved it next to him, taking a seat. She was smiling, smirking almost as she set her right arm to rest on the table, angling her body towards him.

"So it this why you stood me up last Saturday, _Neji-kun_?" His name sounded like silk running past her lips. She chuckled and touched his arm, running her thumb over the bare skin just below his wrist. "We had plans," she whispered as she drew in closer to his ear, tickling the flesh there with her hot breath; her breasts pressed into his bicep. "You know that little black number you like to peel—."

"Excuse me, who are you?"

Neji released a breath he wasn't even aware he'd been holding onto.

Tenten looked towards her, raising a brow, lips curving into a smile. "Oh? He didn't tell you?" She paused and glanced over at Neji. "I'm his…" she let it hang on that and chuckled softly, eyes on his.

Sora frowned. She turned her glare to Neji. "Is this true, Hyuuga Neji-san? Are you with this girl?"

"I—," he began.

"It's it obvious, _Barbie_?" Tenten addressed her again, cutting him off. "I mean, we're on the same team, you know. That tends to require sleeping in the same tent most of the time… especially on those cold, rainy nights all—."

"Neji-san?" Sora bit off, looking at him, features hard. "Are you sleeping with this—this—."

"What?" Tenten asked lazily, looking amused.

"_Trollop!_" She was really glaring at her now, ears red and cheeks puffing. "All of you kunoichi are the same. No manners. Whoring yourselves out for money."

At this the brunette raised a brow. She looked her up and down. "Well, you seem to live rather comfortably off of the protection my _profession_ provides."

"Neji-san?" she ignored Tenten now, looking for an answer.

Neji blinking, finding his voice again somehow. He coughed, clearing his throat. "Actually, no, I… we…" He turned to Tenten, eyes narrowing in scrutiny as he recalled what he'd practiced. "I told you we were done with this. What are you doing here?"

"It's true then!" Sora bit off, standing. The noise that escaped her throat was something between a huff and a squeak. "I can't believe you! Sleeping with a kunoichi!" She grabbed her glass of wine and tossed its contents across the table at him; the red splashed across his face and all over his kimono.

Tenten's mouth went wide as some of it sprayed on her. She tried to look upset; it wouldn't do well to start laughing no matter how funny she found it to be.

"Don't call on me. Ever," she snapped as she stomped out of the restaurant.

Tenten waited a moment longer; she closed her mouth and puffed her cheeks as she stared at him, looking at the stains and wet mess all over him.

Neji sighed, smiled faintly and closed his eyes and he placed his face in his palm. "Go ahead…"

She laughed, but, kindly handed him a cloth napkin off the table to wipe his face and clothing with.

"Thank you," he muttered before he went about cleaning his face. "I wasn't exactly expecting that."

She was still chuckling as she stood up and grabbed his arm. "Come on, Hyuuga. Let's get out of here."

He wasn't inclined to argue, not once he realized several patrons and employees were staring at them. He sighed again as he let her loop her arm through his and guide him towards the front desk. She was quiet while he paid, but, she was still grinning like an idiot at him; her laugher was hard to suppress.

"You ok, playboy?" she asked him as they stepped out, her arm still neatly tucked into his own.

"Yeah… I'm not fond getting wine thrown in my face, but, it was a lot better than the alternative."

"Oh?" she inquired cutely, slanting a look at him.

"As in hearing how all kunoichi are village prostitutes with a kunai."

"Is that what that outburst was about?" she chuckled and brought her other hand up to cover her mouth. "Oh, poor girl. She must be a civilian." She shook her head, more amused by her naïveté than anything else.

"Actually, she lives in a shinobi family. I don't know who's idea it was to send her out on a date with me, because, quite frankly more than half of the Hyuuga are shinobi. She'd have been offended just visiting the compound.

"_Hiashi_ would have been offended by her presence alone."

"You're joking."

"No," he deadpanned, "I'm not."

She was laughing again as they continued their stroll down the busy road laden with the evening crowd. "I'm starting to think someone's playing a joke on you with these setups."

"No kidding…" he muttered.

"Ah well," she said as she let out a long breath of air at the same time, "I'll just keep being your Ms. X until you find the right one."

He looked over at her as she stared forward. He must have been looking at her for a while because she looked up at him and said, "What? Is something on my face?" She stopped walking and reached up to check.

"No, nothing at all…" he murmured, scrutinizing her with narrowed opaque-violet orbs. "I'm just realizing I didn't even know you owned a dress that like that."

She smiled at him and took a step towards him; her proximity was a little off-putting for reasons he was only just starting to fathom. "You like what you see, _Neji-kun _?"

_Yes_.

Was she serious or just teasing him again, he wondered as her dark orbs stared up into his paler ones. His lips parted, as if to reply to her. The hood of his eyes lowered slightly as twin pools traveled down to her painted lips. Something stirred in his gut, dancing around as it moved up to his chest; it simmered there as he tried to ignore the heat crawling up his neck—not out of embarrassment, but, something else.

Was she flirting with him? Or was this just apart of what she'd done earlier in the restaurant to scare off Sora? Was this just some extended play of her role meant to give them both a good laugh? Should he play along?

Her laughter broke through his train of thought and hyper-focus on her lips.

"You look like you need a drink. A real one."

He blinked, refocusing his gaze on her eyes as she took his arm again.

She tugged at him, smiling. "Let's go, Hyuuga. My treat this time. I think you've earned it after tonight's traumatizing effects."

She wasn't kidding.

…

**.**

…

And so it went from there; for a month he went on each date Hinata had lined up for him, met with each girl and put on a good show when Tenten showed up to 'get her man back.' He discovered that scored women almost all had a habit of throwing their drinks at their date.

He'd learned very quickly to quit wearing his best clothes.

Tenten was also _very_ good at looking like the moderately jealous ex-girlfriend. She always dressed the part; rarely ever did she wear the same dress twice. Her hair was almost always down and she never wore too much makeup.

Had her father ever seen her leave the house in any of that when he was alive?

It was becoming increasingly hard to keep any focus on his dates; the minute he sat down his opaque-violet hues were traveling across the room as he only half listened to the given woman; he did so without thinking about it. He actually waited with a masked, antsy disposition for his food to show up just so he could have her come in and ruin for him; he did it for a chance to feel her warm hands on his arm, his thigh, her breath of his cheek and his name wrapped around her tongue in a low hum.

Was he losing it?

He had to be. No man in his position purposefully screwed up just to have their best friend cop a feel. He was starting to get sick with himself and his disgusting little addiction. He couldn't stop himself.

The thought did occur to him to just end it all; to ask _her_ out on date. He just wasn't sure if he was ready for that; he wasn't sure if she even wanted him as he wanted her. On one side it might ruin their friendship, their team. On another, he didn't know if he could quite handle _her_, someone he cared about deeply, rejecting him if she didn't feel the same way about him. Caught in the middle, he just kept dating and _using_ her like his own personal cocaine.

"Neji-san, who is this?" the girl across from the table, Kaede, asked him as Tenten pressed herself up against him, her breasts plastered against his bicep once again.

He closed his eyes and exhaled a shallow breath as her torturous hand made circles on his thigh, close his stiffening member.

"Yes, _Neji-san_, who am I?" Tenten nudged playfully as she used _that_ voice again, the one that made liquid heat settle between his thighs every time; she was moving her hand close, brushing the swollen shaft through material of his pants.

A sharp breath came through his nose; he hid it as well as he could.

Did she know? Did she hear him? Could she see the way his jaw flexed every time her thumb edged closer once again? The strain was becoming too much and yet he didn't want her to stop; he was caught between pushing her hand away and pressing it closer, completely, along the hardening confines of his pants.

"_Neji-san!_" Kaede snapped.

He coughed, trying to sit up better as he blinked. "I ah—."

Tenten rolled her eyes. "You're not getting it, are you? We're a thing, sweetie. He's just a little confused." She shifted closer to him as she said this, her face turned to the crook of his neck; her hot breath was on his neck, his ear.

He pushed down a shudder, but couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes. Was that her mouth on his ear?

His hand tightened into a fist next to his thigh, the one she wasn't running her fingers up and down the inside of; the one she wasn't squeezing the knee of before gently dragging her digits up the along the underside before her thumb came curving down very… very…_very _close again.

He bit the inside of his cheek as she nipped playfully at his ear.

Kaede glared indignantly at her. "This is ridiculous." She looked over at Neji. "Why would you bother inviting me here if you wanted to be with her?"

"Because, like I said. He's a little confused," Tenten said again. "Do you need a demonstration?" Her smile was cat-like.

"What…?" Kaede blinked from across the table.

Neji looked over at the brunette; at the sudden mention of the word demonstration his blood raced, both in fear and anticipation. He opened his mouth to speak. Whatever she had planned—.

He stilled.

Her mouth slanted across his open one, slow and heavy—warm; she was warm. Her tongue curled across his, caressed. She nipped at his lower lip, dragging it out and sucking gently before she pressed her lips into his again. Her hand held his cheek, his chin and she kept him there, willing prisoner of her ministrations.

He exhaled raggedly across her lips, closing his eyes. He was again caught between pushing her away and pulling her closer.

There was a distinct bite on his thigh; her nails.

He inhaled sharply, haggardly. The sound of his breath in his ears was hoarse, strained. His whole body felt like a coiled spring that she was pulling tighter and tighter with each little nip, caress, suckle and scratch; with every increasing rise and fall of his chest he felt his control slipping.

She'd been doing it that all month long; touching, teasing, and puling tighter and tighter on what sanity he had left. How did she know what strings to tug, to drag her digits across to get him to respond in just the right way? He felt like a samisen, reacting each time she strummed, plucked and tuned him for her liking.

"Te…" he breathed outward, choking on his words as her hand slid under his shirt and drug down, cutting into his flesh.

Fuck it.

He drug her across his lap, ignoring and both relishing the small sound of protest she made in the back of her throat as he took hold of her hips and thrust upward. He growled into her mouth as she gasped, as the roll of her wet center sent a flood of heat cross his already straining shaft. He bit into her neck; she arched against him, pressing her breasts into his chest. Her nails dug into his shoulder, leaving trails offended flesh.

Then she thrust back and he groaned, hiding the noise in the bare valley of her breasts. Her hands curled up his neck and dug into his hair, his scalp, urging him.

"Neji," she breathed his name, an ache across her lips.

His hands slid lower along her thighs towards the hem of her dress; they caressed upward along warm flesh and under the silken material. It was a slow, painful drag of his digits. He listened to the heartbeat in his ears; his or hers, he couldn't be sure.

"Ne…" he heard her start, softly, slowly as he inched towards the hem of her underwear.

_Cough_.

He blinked.

"Excuse me."

Opaque drew up and towards his right. Neji's eyes met with the face of a rather perturbed waiter. He swallowed and looked back at the position he was in. Tenten was looking anywhere but him.

"I think it would be best if you left, sir. Both of you."

His head was reeling, spinning; somewhere between point A and B he'd dropped his common sense. His eyes drew towards the rest of the room, realizing quite a number of people were staring their direction, and, Kaede was gone.

"Sir?" he prompted again. "If I need to call someone to remove—."

"No, no," he muttered. "We're leaving." Slowly, he slid out from under her and got out of the booth. He pulled a handful of cash out of his wallet and placed it on the table before reaching for her.

"Neji—."

He didn't acknowledge her protest as he helped adjust her dress and fix her hair. She was looking at him with deafeningly quiet orbs. He caught her gaze only a moment before he led her out of the restaurant and into the night.

He kept walking for a while, holding her hand and taking her along with him. She moved in pace with him.

What had he been thinking? Why had he done that? He drug his free hand through his hair, closing his eyes; he took in a deep, slow, evasive breath. Maybe the oxygen would help bring it all back down to earth for him.

This was all going too far.

He had to stop; stop before someone got hurt.

"Neji." She jerked on his arm and he stopped, looking back towards her. She wasn't frowning, but, the smile she offered him wasn't… _hers_. She released his hand. "I'm going to go home, alright? I don't think I'm up for drinks tonight."

He nodded mutely.

"Bye, Neji…" She gave him a little wave before fading into the night.

"Bye…"

**AN :: **Let me know what you think of this two part one shot. Part two will be up in a few days, if you're curious. Thanks for reading/review—as always.

—**Blade **


	2. Part II

.

_**Ms. X**_

_For Nokito-chan who has been asking for me to write a NejiTen fic for a while now. Thanks for all your support and help on my other work, hun!_

Part II

_Clang._

_Clang._

_Clang._

She swung, heavy block of steel in her hand falling ceremoniously against molten-red metal. With each strike the thin, flat, alloy shaft echoed a vibration up her arm and across her chest. She reached up with the other hand, hammer still grasped, and wiped the gathering sweat off of her brow with the back of it. A streak of black traced in its path, staining.

Strands of her hair came loose from twin buns, sticking to the back of her neck; her bangs were soaked and dripping, making it hard for her to see even as she pushed them away. A thick leather apron hung over her chest, legs and hips, tied with thin straps over her shoulders; it protected her from the embers, from the occasional splash of liquid steel. The sleeves of her dirty white shirt were rolled up to her elbows and her hands were swathed in thick leather gloves.

With each strike the sound cut through her ears, piercing her.

She exhaled, but didn't stop even as a pain crept up her back, warning she'd been in here a little too long. Copper-brow hues remained fixed on the job at hand, disregarding the ache running up her arms and down her spine.

What was wrong with her? Why hadn't she just said something? Why hadn't _he_?

She blew air out from between her lips in frustration.

It was obvious, wasn't it? ...Wasn't it?

She didn't deny she was attracted to him; she had been as a Genin. Like a lot of young girls her age in the Academy, she'd looked to him. Then again, she'd also held an attraction for Uchiha Sasuke who was a whole year younger than her. Who hadn't, right? You'd of had to be blind not to; and even that was questionable…

_Clang_.

He was beautiful; almost too beautiful. He wasn't that type of beautiful that Sai or Sasuke were. He was elegant, in his own way; he was polite to a point. She'd been lucky enough to get close enough to him to know what was under all of that, right?

_Clang._

She'd grown out of it, sure, but, she'd never denied the attraction; she wasn't going to lie to herself. She was happy being his friend, the one he came to when there was no one else to talk to or listen to him. She was happy to have his respect, his acknowledgement. She was happy just knowing he depended on her.

_Clang_.

Teasing him was a favorite past time of hers. She could rarely stop herself from saying something just to push his buttons, to get a rise of him—anything. There were days that teasing bordered on… flirting; she could admit that. She was a grown woman; she'd been with men before; she'd dated and had her fair share of fun; she _knew_ what flirting was—the kind that got you in trouble in all the right ways.

_Clang._

The _point_ was she'd just never really considered being with him, not on a serious, adult level; especially not since she'd grown out her young infatuations. The thought did cross her mind now and then, faintly; like, when she saw him with his shirt off on a hot day, when she curled up next to him on a particularly cold night on duty, or, there was that one time she'd accidentally walked in on him the shower…

_CLANG._

She sighed and stilled her hand, staring at it.

Sex wasn't exactly an option. She wasn't going to just sleep with him to get it out of her system; and, damnit if she hadn't know this whole little game was a bad idea to begin with. She should have stood her ground and not have given into that look he always gave her; she was weak enough against his eyes without him telling her she was the only one suitable to help him.

_Bastard_.

She tossed the blade she'd been working on into a tub of water; it sizzled, cooling quickly. She dropped her hammer on the anvil and stepped away, her footfalls heavy as she ripped and tugged her apron off, her gloves, and threw them at the work table.

At first it'd been fun to chase his dates off. It'd been fun to doll herself up and watch him squirm; Hyuuga Neji didn't often put himself in a position to squirm, and, damnit if she wasn't going to take advantage of that. But, the more she did it, the farther she dove into the game she played with him and the girls she ran off… the more she pushed the envelope; subconsciously, she's wanted to see when he'd break, when he'd _do_ something about it; do something about _her_.

She hadn't exactly expected the look on his face after she'd kissed him, after he'd dragged her across his lap and very nearly made love to her right there in the restaurant. It's not like she _meant_ to kiss him; she never really meant to do any of it… she just couldn't stop herself.

She sighed and reached for a towel on her table; she wiped her face with it, exhaling softly.

Where did that put her in all this? Did she really _want _to go on scaring women off for him? He'd have to find a girl eventually; and then what?

She frowned, staring down at her work table.

The very idea of him marrying someone else no longer sat well with her. It had been perfectly fine when she'd just been his friend, his confidant, the _girl_ he would come and talk to when his (future) wife pissed him off. Now…

She closed her eyes, leaning into the work table with both palms flat on the wooden surface.

But… but what if he didn't want to be with her? It was one thing to have an attraction for another person, but, that didn't make them a good mate—wife. And that's what he was looking for; a wife. Was she even ready to get married? Did she love him?

Her heart hammered in her chest; hard.

They were good friends; they were attracted to one another, but, that didn't mean too much either. Tenten opened her eyes and stared down at her hands.

Those hands… they were hard, calloused, scarred, blistered and maintained a broken bone on more than one occasion; they were a blacksmith's—a shinobi's—hands. Her hands weren't still; they weren't meant to lie idly in her lap while she sat aside taking on the air of a china doll. They made weapons, molded steel; those hands cooked and cleaned; those hands took lives; those hands hefted swords, kunai, shuriken; those hands…

…Loved.

She closed her eyes again; she sighed and pulled away from the worktable. She turned and stared at her forge, not really seeing it as she placed her hands on her hips.

There was almost no knowing what Hyuuga Neji wanted; and, it didn't really matter much what she wanted if she didn't. So… question was…

What was she going to do about it?

…

**.**

…

The air was cool; the breeze was soft. Opaque-violet hues watched as a tumble of leaves rolled along the road; he watched as frustrated shop-keepers tried to sweep the paper-thin, varying shades of orange and red off their store fronts. They drew further upward as three young shinobi hopped from one rooftop to the next. Laughter sounded to his right; a child burst into delightful screams as they beat feet in a retreat of another. He could smell barbeque, fish, and rice; they mixed together and blended with burning oak.

The sun was high; arching just past the point of noon and closing in slowly to descend beyond the Hokage mount. A coalition of odd shadows danced off buildings and stone renditions cast in either advertisement or remembrance.

Neji sighed and stuff his hands into his pockets, staring down at the beaten path his feet followed on his behalf; he wasn't really looking at it.

He could still feel her, in his arms… warm and wanting. He could still recall the way her body molded against his, the way her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders. He could still smell her, scent pervading his other senses. He could feel her thighs rubbing his, her hips thrusting that ache towards something.

He closed his eyes, digits curling into fists in his pockets.

He wanted her.

_Her_.

He wanted her legs wrapped about hips; her bare breasts pressed up against his chest, skin to skin; her hot breath in his ear; her lips on his throat, along the underside his ear; he wanted his name wrapped around her tongue, crying out for more as he flattened her back against a viable surface.

He considered himself a controlled individual; he made his decisions with the upmost concern and deliberation. And yet, there was nothing controlled, careful or deliberating about the way her hips moved wrapped in satin… her calves flexed in an arch, or… the way her hair—down and wild with abandon—made him want to run his fingers through it.

He was an addict and she his drug.

Had she done it all on purpose? Did she want him as well? Or, was that little act last night just another part of the game, the show, they put on for the unfortunate soul across the table from him on a given evening?

He stared down at his feet again.

Any sane person would just ask her, confront her. They would say, do you want me? Do you want to make something more of this? There was that obvious part, the part that feared she'd reject him. Then, then there was that other part that worried she'd want more… but not beyond what he imagined.

Sex wasn't a viable option. He wasn't going to just sleep with her to finally get past what it would feel like, what all the hype his body was making over it. She was his friend, his teammate, the girl he ran to when there wasn't much of anyone else suitable to tell his concerns and worries to—to help him sort it all out in his head when he couldn't. He didn't want to risk losing that and he didn't know if he had the strength to tell her no if all she wanted was the sex—the endorphin rush in the dark.

He stopped walking and looked up, eyeing a cloud trekking across the expanse of blue. A breeze tousled his strands; they kissed and tickled his cheeks with each soft movement.

He'd never paid too much attention to her as a girl in his class. He recalled one of her finer points being that she never trailed after him like a besotted child. She occasionally blushed when he caught her looking at him, but, she never went beyond that. It didn't really help that she had no clan; a trait made notable by her lack of a last name—something almost always associated with a clan or a large, wealthy family. At the time he'd been convinced if you weren't a genius you were nothing. While she came from a long line of smiths who provided the best weapons for the long-lived clans of Konoha, to Neji she was nothing; she was the first in her family to be a shinobi and thus used her family trade to create her trademark jutsus.

He still hadn't thought much of it when she made the only female spot on his team; at best she'd been a good tool to test his abilities against—nothing more. As they grew, as he'd grown beyond his own flawed ideals, they become friends; good friends. Inadvertently, she had become the only person he could talk to in the three-man group; it's not like Lee or Gai were good at being serious or understanding. He hadn't exactly planned on getting that close to her; but, what friendships were? Planned, that is.

He didn't really mind it when she laughed at him; she reminded him it was good to smile when he had a habit of being silent, stuffy and stoic. She upset his routine by just being herself; he found he didn't mind it. He liked her spontaneity, her spunk and her ability to ground him.

He closed his eyes briefly and turned to look at a store front as something caught his eye. His twin depths narrowed as he watched the brunette in question, basket in hand, exit with a man. She was smiling and saying something to him; he couldn't hear her from this distance. He watched as she waved the guy off when he left. His lips parted slightly as she caught his eye and blinked. She smiled at him, but, it wasn't as bright as he was accustomed to.

He looked at the street, making sure there wasn't anyone coming or going and crossed the way to her; his hands were once again in his pockets.

"Hey," she said softly as he stopped in front of her.

"Hi," he replied and looked down at her basket. "Supplies?"

She glanced down and nodded, looking at him. "Mom needed some things for dinner tonight. I offered to come to market for her because I had a few vendors to see about restocking their inventory."

He nodded.

"Do you have a date tonight?"

…

**.**

…

Copper-browns eyed the prewrapped snacks, cookies, cakes and candies lined up on the shelf before her. Her finger ran across the brands and types, thinking perhaps they were once again out of her mother's favorite comfort food. She put an arm under her breasts, hugging herself slightly while her free hand came up and a single digit placed itself on her jaw.

Ah well, she would just have to make do with the chocolate doughnuts. Tenten snagged a bag and dropped them into her basket as she went towards the back of the store. She still needed to get milk and eggs from the cold section.

"Tenten?"

She blinked as someone called her voice from her right. She couldn't see beyond the fog forming on the clear, glass door where she'd been bending over to grab a carton of eggs. As she placed the item in her basket she pulled back a step, looking to see who had called her. "Yes? Oh," she said as she smiled. "Miki-san. Hi."

He had a nice smile; always did. His blue eyes were almost the same shade as Naruto's, but, lighter; more crystalline—icy, she decided. His shoulder-length strands were darker than Neji's; black, even. He wasn't tan, but, he wasn't pale either; not like her teammate. He was about as tall as she was.

"How are you today?" he asked.

"I'm alright." She glanced down at her basket. "Just getting a few things for my mom while in the vendor district. Actually, that reminds me," she murmured. "Did your dad did need anything restocked?"

He looked to be thinking about it, eyes wandering upward in thought. "I don't think so…" he trailed off. "You might want to come by the tent and ask him yourself."

She sighed; so much for saving herself a trip out of twenty. It wasn't a big deal though, really. She was just being grumpy, she supposed. "I will, thanks." She kept her smile in place, trying not to look too unhappy.

"How are things at home? Your mom?"

"Pretty good." She glanced back in the cooler and reached for the half gallon of milk her mother requested. "She's been busy with the store, mostly. Taking orders. You know how that goes, I'm sure."

He chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, pop keeps me pretty busy. He wants to make sure I know the business inside and out before he retires."

She snorted and shut the cooler door. "Your dad? Retire?"

"Yeah, I know."

She stepped down and isle with breads and inspected the shelves there, her eyes running over the rolls. She noted he was following her, but, didn't think much of it.

"Say, Ten?"

She looked between two brands as he spoke to her. "Yeah?"

"Are you seeing anyone?" As she reached for the first bag her hand stopped, poised for a moment. Once the question settled she reached for the bag and placed it in her basket. She turned slightly to look at him. "Why…?"

He swallowed and stuck his hands in his pockets. His feet shuffled a bit. He wasn't looking at her; his eyes glanced about at the shelf she'd just taken the bag of rolls off. "Well… I was wondering… if you weren't doing anything tonight…"

It didn't take a genius for her to figure out what he was trying to say. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

A stain of faint red trailed across his cheeks as he met her eyes. "Ah… yes. I am." He tried to make his voice sound confident.

She stood there for a while, staring at him. Words sorta left her; and, not because she'd never been asked out before. It just came as a bit of a surprise to her; she hadn't exactly been making herself available for a month. She just realized it herself as she did the math in her head. She hadn't been out on a date since… Neji.

She blinked a few times and then her eyes softened, narrowed as her gaze drew past Miki's.

Did she want to? Should she?

No… well… hell what was stopping her, right? Miki was a nice guy; he also had the benefit of being, as her mother called it: easy on the eyes. His father was a well established merchant who dealt directly with providing shinobi with gear; he bought directly from her, even after her father passed away. His father's family had been good friends with hers for a number of years. His family, unlike some of the other merchants—while they sold to shinobi—had no problem with her career choice; they actually commended her for her achievements when she came in to do business with her mother. Actually, if she really _thought_ about it… if their relationship went far enough to consider something… more serious… than it would work in their families favors from a business vantage point. But, that really didn't matter to her; it was just another point… She wouldn't marry for anything less than love, anyway…

She resisted the urge to sigh. In truth… there was no way she could, in good conscious, take Miki up on his offer; not with the way her insides were all mixed up.

She opened her mouth to say as much, but, stopped short as another thought hit her.

Honestly, she didn't know where she stood with Neji. That was the problem, wasn't it?

"Tenten…?" He scrutinized her, worry apparent on his face.

If she agreed to the date she would just tell Neji; and if he had any feelings for her, and problems with it… she'd know. He would say as much; he was the direct sort. If he didn't… then, she would be no worse for wear. At least she'd know where they stood so she could pick a direction; she would have a good time with Miki and maybe it would turn into something more.

"Tenten?" this time she heard him. "Are you—."

She blinked out of her reverie and smiled brightly, mind set. "I'm free tonight, yes. What time would you like to pick me up?"

His face brightened almost instantly; he looked a little relieved. "Is six ok? That way we can make it to dinner by seven."

"Perfect." She glanced down at her basket. "I think I'm going to cash out and head home, though."

"I'll walk you out."

"Sure," she replied as she turned around and headed for the register. She waited as the clerk rang up her things and placed them back in her basket.

"Are you still going to stop by the shop?" he asked her as they stepped out together, one after the other and down the small shop steps.

"I'll have to," she said with a smile, stopping to face him before he left.

"I'll let dad know about it then. That way he'll expect you." He smiled still and stepped back, leaving. "See ya tonight."

She waved back. "Bye." She let out a little sigh and turned to go; she stopped short as a set of very familiar eyes caught her gaze. She forced a smile as she watched him look for traffic and walk across the street to her. "Hey."

"Hi," he replied; his eyes traveled down to the basket she held. "Supplies?"

She followed his sight and then looked back up at him. "Mom needed some things for dinner tonight. I offered to come to market for her because I had a few vendors to see about restocking their inventory."

He nodded.

She supposed if she wanted to find out, now was a better time than ever. She summoned up her nerve and asked, "Do you have a date tonight?"

He eyed for a moment, perhaps confused by what she asked.

"I mean," she explained, "do you have a date with another girl tonight?"

He wasn't saying anything right away; he was thinking, she knew. Maybe he'd forgotten? Maybe he didn't know?

"…Yeah," he replied, his voice careful and guarded.

"Oh," she replied. She shifted from one foot to the other, but, didn't remove her gaze from his. "Well, I can't make it tonight." When all he did was stare at her some more she elaborated. "I have a date with someone. I'm sorry I can't make it." She continued to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. It was never easy to gauge Neji's reaction.

Did he care?

Was he going to say anything?

Was he—.

"I suppose it can't be helped."

_Oh_, she thought; she couldn't really find it in herself to voice it. She gave him a smile, again, forcing it. Her eyes closed slightly with the action. "You'll be fine without me. Right?"

He nodded, but, it was slow and unsteady. "…Yeah."

"Great, well, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Neji." She turned swiftly, leaving in the first direction she could find. She wasn't sure she wanted him to see her heart hammering in her chest, or her face as it burned red while she tried to hide tears—where were they coming from?

At least she knew, right?

…

**.**

…

What happened?

What _in the hell_ happened?

He was left with the sudden awareness of certain feeling: bereft. Swiftly, the game had ended; the teasing was gone. She hadn't been laughing at him; she didn't tease him about the next damsel in his lineup as he would have expected her to.

For a moment, he'd wondered if she was going to ask _him_ out. He'd been stilled by her inquiry, wondering—with a blank expression and a bated breath—if she was going to. It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her he would cancel for her; he would cancel _it _all. But then, before he could continue, he heard that dreaded word; it was the same one that started this whole damned thing: date.

She had a date.

He had been… disappointed? It wasn't a feeling he was entirely use to; not in regards to her. Words left him standing there, stupidly, as he tried to find where all of his brain cells had rolled off to. All he could manage to say, while trying to salvage the broken pieces of his pride was: I suppose it can't be helped.

_Had_ he read it wrong? Had it all been apart of the show, as he'd wondered previously? Was she really just teasing him; had she been? It shouldn't have hurt, but it did. He shouldn't feel… jealous; but he _did_, he realized with the all the grace of a child who'd just discovered it was very unwise to stick a screw in a light socket.

Then he couldn't quite stop himself from imagining her hand on someone else's thigh, her breath in their ear, her lips on their neck and their name wrapped around her tongue in a fit of pained and partial ecstasy. He couldn't _stop_ himself from wondering, would she let them drag her across their lap; would she let them run their hands up her skirt, barely grazing the lace of her panty line with the bite of their nails; would she let them kiss her until they were both breathless, beyond the bounds of normal PDA in a restaurant booth? Would she leave them with a pained, sleepless night because they needed another hit, another shot of what she was providing, teasing them with like a dog salivating for a scrap… Would she leave them too with a serious lack of answers in regards to what had just happened?

He wanted to let it go. He now knew where he stood with her; something he'd wanted from the very start. He'd been telling himself for hours now that very same thing. He could move on; after a few weeks things would be normal again; he wouldn't wonder who she was raking her nails across as their name passed the breathy passage of her mouth; a mouth he wanted very much in places he _shouldn't_.

He wouldn't _care_.

He would go back to being oblivious; thinking she never dated, never slept with, or, otherwise felt anyone up in a dark corner while they slammed her up against a wall in the same dangerous, _animalistic_ fashion he's wanted to last night.

At least he knew… right?

"Neji-san?" A bright smile greeted him across the table.

He raised his eyes up, opaque-violet meeting green.

"I asked if you were enjoying the meal."

He nodded, vaguely and looked back down at his plate.

His date frowned at him. "You seem distracted. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he breathed out in a half sigh as he took his chopsticks in his hand and moved food around on his plate. "I just… didn't sleep well last night." At least it wasn't a lie.

"I'm sorry to hear that…" she murmured, touching her lips momentarily.

"It's alright, Noriko-san… You were saying?" He glanced up at her.

She brightened immediately. It was as though he hadn't been distressed at all. It took her mere moments to dive right back into her story. Her voice hovered in the background as he allowed himself to be sucked back into his own thoughts.

He was happier being her friend anyway, wasn't he? He _enjoyed_ being the one she came to talk about the little things to, the ones people usually found unimportant. While he never held a lot of interest for her father's trade, now hers, he didn't find it dull listening to her talk about it with the voice and expression of an animated child.

He _liked_ it when she teased him, when she poked him in his side and told him he was pouting; his heart always lifted a little when she laughed at him, even when it was at his expense (as it usually was). He liked it when she argued with him over who was paying for the drinks; he always paid, but, it was fun to watch her pout a little when he acted like he wasn't. He liked it when she snuck into his room and stared at him until he woke up, until he glared at her through hood lashes while she grinned like a maniac at him.

"This way, miss, sir."

"Thank you, very much."

His head turned slightly to his right and behind his date as she continued talking animatedly. He still wasn't hearing her; all he could hear was the hammering in his ears and _her_ voice as she laughed. He could only watch her as she grinned, scanning the menu no more than ten feet away from him with…

…someone else.

…

**.**

…

Copper-browns scanned the listed menu items as she bit her lower lip. She could vaguely hear the waiter setting their drinks on the table and Miki telling him thank you.

"Do you know what you want?" he asked her.

"Why don't you order for me?" she said as she closed it. She could _feel_ his eyes on her as she handed the menu over and forced hers to look at Miki. She placed her elbows on the table and her chin just behind her interlaced digits.

"She'll have the same as me," he responded to the waiter before handing his over as well. "Have you ever been here before?"

She raised her brows. "Michiru's?"

"Yes." He reached for his glass and swirled it around as he waited for a response.

"…A time or two," she admitted. "But, not often."

He frowned a little and stilled his glass. "If I had known I would have brought you somewhere else."

"Oh, no, it's fine!" she said with a little laugh in her voice as she reached over and smoothed her fingers over the top of his hand in a gesture meant to be comforting. "I love it here. It has a nice atmosphere."

He smiled, looked appeased. "I'm glad." He gave her hand a soft squeeze before she released it and took a sip of his drink.

…

**.**

…

_The hell?_

He watched as her hand smoothed over his, caressing his knuckles. He felt the heat in the backs of his eyes—pulsing—as he grabbed her hand and squeezed. Something inside of him dropped as he heard her laugh, saw her smile and the way her eyes lit up in pure, unadulterated joy.

He couldn't stop _looking_ at her; at _them_.

He watched as she leaned forward, exposing the sweet skin between the layer of fabric that drew over her shoulders and slipped down her back. Her delicate fingers reached up, fanning out across her cheek as she flashed a smile, laughing again; her eyes danced as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, copper-browns focused on the boy across the table from her.

It wasn't too hard to notice the way her date's eyes drew downward, looking at the focal point the little number she swathed herself in made no attempt to hide.

…

**.**

…

Tenten laughed softly as Miki told her a story about his brother involving a can of paint, a cat and his very angry mother. She inhaled deeply, catching her breath; she used that to hide her more pressing reason for needing air. She covered her mouth as she did and continued to smile behind her hand as she urged the beating in her chest to still. She released another breath, more slowly, through her nostrils as she placed her hands in her lap and leaned back against her chair.

He was still watching her.

His eyes raked across her skin as she crossed her legs under the table; she felt his glare from a mile away. She forced her eyes to stay on Miki; she did her damndest to look like she was paying attention. But then… Neji had never been an easy man to ignore, had he?

Chocolate-browns slowly traveled on their own, disregarding her. Her head turned slightly and her eyes locked on his. She was still, but, not frozen.

He wasn't smiling at her; he was just looking at her; stoicism and suppressed ferocity spun in his gaze. His cold pools cut through her, holding her there as a pacing animal trying to find escape, release, as he called to her. She found herself wanting to know what he was thinking; she found herself aching with a want that sent a rush through her veins, coating her insides with liquid fire. She felt it in her ears, pounding as it rushed to her heart and constrained suddenly and unexpectedly.

She tightened her hands together; she was clasping them, clenching them and wondering why she was doing so as his eyes penetrated her, cut through her, isolated her in a silence so loud it was deafening; she could hear nothing but muffled voices around her.

She didn't understand why he was doing it; she didn't understand why her throat was catching and choking her mercilessly as his depths imprisoned her. He didn't have a reason to look at her like that; to look at her as though she'd left him confused, aching and wondering what in the hell was going on. He hadn't wanted her; she was going to be ok with that because he hadn't stopped her.

She was on a date with someone else because she couldn't have him, because she was going to have to be ok with being what she'd always been to him.

Her eyes softened as she broke the mold of her thoughts, letting it go, letting _him_ go. Her expression was one of pained serenity as she smiled sadly, faintly and turned back to Miki.

Because, it didn't matter anymore, right?

…

**.**

…

His jaw flexed painfully; his chest tightened, knife twisting; his pulse beat an erratic, unforgiving scream into his ears. His fingers curled, nails unwilling weapons against his palms in unconscious self-affliction.

It burned when he touched her, as he ran a hand across her arm and she smiled. There was an unrelenting pressure on his chest as his eyes roved over her unabashedly. Air locked in his lungs; the only release the occasional exhale from his nostrils.

And then she smiled at _him_—sweet, bittersweet serenity expressed there as her eyes softened, saddened and defeated; she turned away.

The world stilled.

He was _angry_, he realized suddenly, clarity slicing through him and hitting him like a ton of bricks. He was angry that she'd taken someone else; he was jealous that someone else was making her smile, making her laugh, touching her, sharing things with her.

Things he should be.

He didn't _want_ to be the one she ran to when she got angry at guy in her life, when he made her cry, or happy and excited because he'd done something right—he _wanted_ to be that guy. He _wanted_ her to tease him mercilessly every day, for the rest of his life; he wanted to wake up with her smile in his face while he glared at her through hooded lashes between his sheets; he wanted to be the one to she got kicked out of a coffee shop with when things got a too heavy, too hot for them to stop or to care.

He wanted to listen to her ramble on about what she loved; he wanted her to poke him in his side and snicker that he was pouting again; he wanted her to argue because it was his turn to buy drinks; he wanted to watch when she smiled, when her face lit up and her eyes danced into his; he wanted to be the only one that noticed she had amber in her gaze, sparking brightly when she got mischievous—spontaneous—and tried to hold in her laughter at _his_ expense and no one else's.

He wanted to make love to her until they both hurt; he wanted to hear his name on her breath as she arched into him, sweaty and wet with want because of _him_; he wanted to lay with her for hours, exploring every crevice of her skin, every curve of her body; he wanted to drink her in for hours, as she crawled under his skin and pervaded his senses until there was nothing else—until he couldn't see straight unless she looked at him with breathless abandon.

He wanted to be _that_ guy.

"Neji-san?" He didn't hear her. "Neji?" He didn't see his date frown as he stood. "What's wrong?"

All he could see was her; her eyes turning to him, looking at him with questionable surprise. He watched her stand and take a step back, chair hitting back of her legs before it fell.

"Ne—."

His lips were on hers; his arms were around her, holding her, pressing her to him like a man without just cause, control or morals; without conviction, concern or careful deliberation. For once he just acted and to hell with what came, with what anyone else thought. To hell with the shouting he couldn't hear behind him; to hell with the cries of surprise; to hell with the stares and the claps or the hoots of joy; to hell with his date and hers.

To hell with it all.

He invaded her mouth with his tongue, tilting his head as he pressed into her, as he curled his fingers into her bare skin along her spine, as he poured himself into her, breathed into her, wove himself into her with unbridled abandon.

_He_ would be the one loved her, laughed with her, made love to her, listened to her, let him tease her, poke at him and laugh at him with wild unsuppressed joy when he told her it was alright as he feigned vexation. _He_ would be the one to pretend he wasn't paying the bill, to let her invade his life like a euphoric infection he couldn't stave off; he didn't want to stave off.

"Love me," he whispered across her lips as he pulled away, lungs seeking air. "Love me," he said again, pressing his forehead to hers, refusing to release her, to let her leave his embrace.

The sound came softly, slowly; laughter was a throaty constrain caught in her throat expelling from her lips as she spoke. "All… all you had to do was ask, Hyuuga."

And then he kissed her again. Because _once_ wasn't going to be enough.

**AN ::** So… I wanted to write lemons for this. But, honestly, at this point it seems overkill. You got the gist, it was yummy and mushy. And it was all for Noki-hime. It's over and it's her pressy! So, yosh!

I wasn't sure how I felt about the whole changing perspective things in this towards the end. I didn't feel like it flowed right. I wanted more of that rage burning under Neji's skin that he wasn't really aware of… but, I'm _happy_ with it. So you tell me: **Did it flow?**

—**Blade **


End file.
